He smiled grimly.  “Not yet.  But Sir Reginald Bassett—­you know old Sir Reggie?—­came and inspected us the other day, and we had a talk.  He is one of the keenest empire-builders that I ever met.”  An odd thrill sounded in Monck’s voice.  “He asked me if presently—­when the vacancy occurred—­I would be his secretary, his political adviser, as he put it.  Stella, it would be a mighty big step up.  It would lead—­it might lead—­to great things.”

“Oh, my darling!” She was quivering all over.  “Would it—­would it mean that we should be together?  No,” she caught herself up sharply, “that is sheer selfishness.  I shouldn’t have asked that first.”

His lips pressed hers.  “Don’t you know it is the one thing that comes first of all with me too?” he said.  “Yes, it would mean far less of separation.  It would probably mean Simla in the hot weather, and only short absences for me.  It would mean an end of this beastly regimental life that you hate so badly.  What?  Did you think I didn’t know that?  But it would also mean leaving poor Tommy at the grindstone, which is hard.”

“Dear Tommy!  But he has lots of friends.  You don’t think he would get up to mischief?”

“No, I don’t think so.  He is more of a man than he was.  And I could keep an eye on him—­even from a distance.  Still, it won’t come yet,—­not probably till the end of the year.  You are fairly comfortable here—­you and Peter?”

She smiled and sighed.  “Oh yes, he keeps away the bogies, and Tessa chases off the blues.  So I am well taken care of!”

“I hope you don’t let that child wear you out,” Monck said.  “She is rather a handful.  Why don’t you leave her to her mother?”

“Because she is utterly unfit to have the care of her.”  Stella spoke with very unusual severity.  “Since Captain Ermsted’s death she seems to have drifted into a state of hopeless apathy.  I can’t bear to think of a susceptible child like Tessa brought up in such an atmosphere.”

“Apathetic, is she?  Do you often see her?” Monck spoke casually, as he rolled a cigarette.

“Very seldom.  She goes out very little, and then only with the Rajah.  They say she looks ill, but that is not surprising.  She doesn’t lead a wholesome life!”

“She keeps up her intimacy with His Excellency then?” Monck still spoke as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Stella dismissed the subject with a touch of impatience.  She had no desire to waste any precious moments over idle gossip.  “I imagine so, but I really know very little.  I don’t encourage Tessa to talk.  As you know, I never could bear the man.”

Monck smiled a little.  “I know you are discretion itself,” he said.  “But you are not to adopt Tessa, mind, whatever the state of her mother’s morals!”

“Ah, but I must do what I can for the poor waif,” Stella protested.  “There isn’t much that I can do when I am away from you,—­not much, I mean, that is worth while.”